


Casper, You're So Pale

by onfleekhenrique (snowyspiders)



Series: The Small Town Gothic Boyfriends Saga [1]
Category: Letterkenny (TV)
Genre: M/M, devon is pale??, idk what this is it's just weird I guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 02:45:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11545866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowyspiders/pseuds/onfleekhenrique
Summary: Devon's pale, he's well aware of it. His boyfriend has noticed too, and although Roald finds it attractive, he plans to tease Devon about it at any given opportunity.





	Casper, You're So Pale

**Author's Note:**

> I've always been fascinated by how pale Devon is, and the actor who plays Devon, Alexander De Jordy, mentioned in an interview once that his nickname is Casper because of his paleness. I've been on a roll during a summer heatwave here, and wanted to incorporate this idea into a fic because I love my weird, pale goth son. The video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iNXBWuYSmBk (**start at 1:05-1:21ish for the nicknames part)  
> *And just so my American readers know, 34 Celsius is around 93.2 degrees Fahrenheit ;)

  Outside, the sun was doing everything in its power to fry Letterkenny to a crisp. It most certainly was not a great day for hay, or for any other living or previously living organism for that matter.  
"It is so fucking hot out there." The screen door banged shut behind Devon, making Roald look up from his book.

  "Somebody fetch the fans!" Stewart called, flinging his bowler hat on the couch beside Roald. "We just got back from a meth run, and my brains are about this close from frying to a fucking crisp." Stewart held his fingers mere millimeters apart, nearly poking Devon in the eye as he waved his digits through the air for emphasis.

  "Watch it, Lemony Snicket, fuck!" The heat was making everyone cranky, and Devon glowered at Stewart as he wrenched a portable fan from the hands of another skid and plugged it in with a flourish.

  "Say that again and you _will_ regret it. But given that the temperature is almost thirty four already, I'll spare you."

  "Who the fuck even _buys_ meth in this heat?" Devon sat beside Roald, fanning himself profusely.

  "People who want meth, Devon. Ugh, this is why we are traditionally creatures of the night."

  The three sat together in silence until Stewart retreated to the basement, taking his fan with him.

  Devon took off his shirt and laid on the floor. "It's cooler down here," he advised his boyfriend.

  "Nah, I'm good." From his couchtop perch, Roald watched Devon's shoulders ripple as he rustled around on his forearms, trying to get comfortable. Devon's back muscles looked like they had been carved from pristine marble. Roald took a drag from his blunt before passing it down.

  "Thanks."

  "You're fucking art, you know that?"

  Devon looked up, a smirk flitting over his lips. "Yeah?"

  "Affirmative." Roald felt giddy and hid his face behind the rustling pages of the book he had been leafing through.

  Devon exhaled an amused cloud and propped himself up on his elbows, watching his boyfriend burst into a fit of giggles.

  "What?"

  "But you're so pale, Casper."

  "Casper?"

  "Yeah, like Casper the Friendly Ghost."

  "What the actual fuck?"

  "You're glowing!"

  "Fuck you, I know that. I have great skin."

  "No!" Roald pointed to Devon's forearm, where a band of sunlight had snuck through a crack in the blinds, painting the skid's pale flesh with its golden light, illuminating Devon's skin like a reflective strip.

  "So I am," Devon concluded dryly, taking another drag as Roald laughed behind his book.

 

\----------

 

  "Ahhh!"

  "This wouldn't be so bad if you'd stop moving!"

  "Stop laughing, you're getting pink shit all over my clothes."

  "You look like a fucking lobster!"

  "I wasn't even out there for that long." Devon let out an exasperated groan and swiped the bottle of calamine lotion from his boyfriend. "Give me that!"

  "Did you wear sunscreen?"

  "Yes!"

  "From one pale gentleman to another, I swear by this elixir that it will heal all of your burns."

  "Thanks, Stewart." Devon peeled off his shirt and threw it at Roald. Looking in the mirror, he rubbed the chalky pink liquid under his eyes and over the red patches on his shoulders. "My skin feels so hot, couldn't they have invented a more convenient way to rub this shit on your skin? Ugh." Pink liquid dribbled down Devon's arms and face, making a mess on the bathroom floor.

  When Roald had claimed he could be out in the sun for hours, he hadn't been lying. Unlike his boyfriend, Devon did not have olive undertones, and had burnt his skin to a hue reminiscent of freshly-cooked salmon.

  "Why are you two still in here? Get ooout!" Devon roared, hurling the ointment cap at Stewart.

  The two scampered out, closing the door behind them.

  Devon went back to moodily tending his tender skin. 

  From the other side of the door, Devon heard a snicker. "Caasper, the friendly ghost, friendliest ghost you knoow-"

  "Roallld, I will kill yoou!"

  Roald disappeared down the hallway in a fit of squeaky giggles as Devon yanked open the door. Devon was never taking his boyfriend to an outdoor concert again.

 

 

 


End file.
